


If You Dare, Come a Little Closer

by TargaryenHeaven



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: All they had to do was TALK, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aunt/Nephew Incest, Based on the original script, Episode s08e05, F/M, Fix-It, Heavy Angst, My babies deserved a happy ending, Targaryen Restoration, a lot of conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 07:07:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21388111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TargaryenHeaven/pseuds/TargaryenHeaven
Summary: What if instead of hurting each other, Daenerys and Jon just talked instead?
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 54
Kudos: 215





	If You Dare, Come a Little Closer

**Author's Note:**

> This has been on my mind ever since I read the original script, which clearly says that Jon wasn't disgusted by incest, but of course D&D had to depict the Mad Queen's downfall somehow, so the scene was cut. 
> 
> Many problems could've been solved if Daenerys and Jon just talked to each other. As Thanos would say - Fine. I'll do it myself.

_Not really sure how to feel about it_   
_Something in the way you move_   
_Makes me feel like I can't live without you_   
_It takes me all the way_   
_I want you to stay_

\- Rihanna, Stay

* * *

Daenerys

_Pain. Treason. Betrayal. Her head was spinning, face burning from the heat coming from the stone hearth. He was pulling away, she knew, he would never look at her the same._   
  
_And for what, the voice inside her head rustled. What did I do wrong?_

"Is that all I am to you?" She took a step closer to him, observing his comely face for any sign that he might still, after everything that had happened, love her. "Your Queen?" She whispered, so close to him, he could feel her breath on his skin.  
  
He watched her, their eyes locking briefly, violent umber clashing with raging blue, before he lowered his gaze to her lips, fruity and full and so tempting, but under the light he could've sworn they quivered. "No," he simply said, allowing her to crash the walls he built around himself with a tender kiss, lips barely touching, her fingers delicately running through his wild curls.

Even with their bodies touching, he was miles away from her. His mind was wandering around the island, as if only his ghost was in the room with her. He was cold. His face twitched. And she felt it all.  
  
_He will never look at me the same._  
  
So they both pulled away, as if they somehow sensed each other's reluctance and agony.  
  
"It disgusts you," her voice was shaky, barely audible as her hands trembled, now cold, despite the fire burning. A part of her was dead.  
  
"Dany..." He began, but his voice trailed off. The truth of it, the pain it would cause, it made his heart clench.  
  
"Alright then," a tear rolled down her cheek. "Let it be fear."  
  
"Dany, please-"

Taking a step back, deep down protecting her own self from any further torment, and not once breaking the eye contact, she slowly distanced herself from him. The chair offered her little to no support at all, as her knees bucked before she could properly sit and look at him. "It disgusts you," she repeated, matter-of-factly.  
  
"Would you just listen to me? It doesn't-" He stuttered. "It doesn't disgust me," he repeated, quietly. "It isn't about that."

"I know what it's about. You're afraid. For your life. For your sister's life. You can't look me in the eyes without frowning."  
  
"You need to eat and rest, Dany. Get some sleep so we can talk. You're just hurting yours-"  
  
"No!" She snapped, nails digging into the wooden chair. Noticing that he winced at the sudden outrage, she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying something she might regret later. She didn't want to hurt him. Was it because she loved him, or because he was her kin, she couldn't say. All she knew was that the man in front of her wasn't the same man she let inside her cabin all those months ago.

And she missed him.  
  
"How could you be so selfish?" She spoke through clenched jaw. "I gave you everything... I sacrificed everything for you, your family, Winterfell... If I had just stayed on Dragonstone with my armies and sent you home, we would've been safe. Viserion would've been alive. Ser Jorah, Missandei, Rhaegal-" her voice cracked as tears formed in her eyes.  
  
"You blame me for their deaths?"  
  
Taking a deep breath, looking into the fire for comfort, she shook her head, "No. I blame you for mine. Might as well put a dagger in my chest, Jon Snow," she sought his gaze. "Because you already killed me."  
  
"Daenerys! Stop this madness. Would you listen to yourself? I would never hurt you- I couldn't."  
  
"Even if I burned your traitorous sister alive?"

"You wouldn't do that," he swallowed hard. "You would never, because I know you."  
  
Her face remained serious, as blank as a fresh sheet of paper. "I would. You don't know me. Now tell me why you're here, before Grey Worm escorts you back to your ship."  
  
"I came to check on you. You're hurt and I- I care about you."  
  
"You came to check if I'm really my father's daughter. So, what do you think, Jon Snow? Am I to be the Mad Queen? Am I going to sit on my throne and laugh as my enemies burn before me? What was it that you said... They'll all come to see you for what you are. Who am I?"

A pause followed, before he found the courage to look her in the eyes again. "My family."  
  
"I'm afraid I am not," she smiled at him weakly. "Your family's at Winterfell. Safe. I used to think my brother Viserys was my family, you know. An older brother to look after me. Protect me. Make sure my husband is not abusing me. And he did none of those things. Because he was never my family. Merely the last man with the Targaryen blood. Took me a while to see that, and now that you're standing before me, I can see you're everything I wanted him to be. I can't force you to stay with me, Jon. You will go back to Winterfell, be with your family, but not before I name you Warden of the North. You will take your army with you."

Jon shook his head, scratching his raven beard. "No. No. It's your army. We have to-"  
  
"I am not finished. That's not my army. They are not loyal to me," she stood up again, straightening her spine. "Any of them would be happy to see bleed out in front of them. I relieve you, and your soldiers of your duties. You no longer owe me anything. The Dothraki that fought against the Army of the Dead will stay here to guard Dragonstone, those who didn't will sail for King's Landing. Grey Worm insisted to lead the Unsullied. Drogon and I will destroy the Greyjoy fleet and the main gate. The rest is up to _my_ army."  
  
"And you planned all that without me? Do I get a say how I feel?"  
  
"No. We won the Great War together, but this one is mine. Your men don't need to die. That's my final decision."

"I am not talking about the bloody war!" Jon snarled. "Is that throne all that matters to you? Seven hells, Daenerys! I am your brother's son! I am not Ned Stark's bastard... I am not a bastard..." he repeated quietly, his voice cracking. All the bottled up emotions threatened to spill at once. "I had a mother who loved me... A birthright, a family name... And the first thing you say to me... Is that I'm a threat to your claim. How do you think I felt?"  
  
Staring at him wide-eyed, she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.  
  
"I thought... Perhaps you'd be happy for me. I told you what carrying a bastard name did to me, how it was a constant burden I had to live with. We could have died that night, and you couldn't even comfort me, because it was you who looked disgusted."  
  
"You pushed me away, Jon. Do not blame me for your inability to cope with your emotions."  
  
"Because I needed time to think, Daenerys! To see what it means for me, for us. I don't care if you're my aunt now and I didn't care then either. I told you who I am because I wanted you to see me."

Approaching cautiously, she reached out for him. Two soft hands held his face while two stormy eyes held his gaze. "I always see you," she spoke kindly, before pulling away, the softness in her voice gone. "You are a good man. And you're right. I saw you as a threat. I begged you not to tell your family the truth, but not because I wanted you to be someone you're not. I knew this was going to happen. A man will always be put before a woman, Jon, no matter how many times you claim you don't want the crown. But I've told you this already. I feared for my life, and you did it anyway."  
  
"Not everyone is plotting against you, Daenerys," he sighed. He was exhausted. The war broke what was left of his spirit, the truth broke his heart, and Daenerys crushed it.  
  
"I know that. I am not my father, you don't need to worry about me executing everyone who looks at me the wrong way. If I wanted to, I could," she paused, waiting for his reaction. In his eyes she recognized emptiness and concern, and she studied him, watching as fire reflected in his eyes. "Still, I was right, wasn't I?"

"So... What now?"  
  
_Now, you hold me._  
  
_Now, we stop fighting._  
  
_Now, it's us against everyone else._

Daenerys closed her eyes, feeling the tears as they were gathering in her eyes. How she wanted to hug him, to press her cheek against his chest and listen as his heart beat for her, how the pace would quicken in response to her touch and smile. Them, against every other soul who'd dare to try to keep them apart. Them. Together. For eternity.  
  
But they could never have that. The mere thought of not seeing him ever again knocked the breath out of her chest, but there was no trust between them anymore. It was shattered into a thousand little pieces, and repairing it would require understanding, time. _Love?_ Something else their relationship lacked, and so she made a decision that she knew would cause sleepless nights and pillows soaked in salty tears.  
  
"Now... It's time we part ways, Jon Snow," she finally managed to utter under her breath. For your own good, and mine. We can't keep doing this-"

"Daene-"  
  
"Shh," she smiled sweetly, touching his cheek. "It's alright. Let me finish. Please... We can't keep doing this to each other, Jon. You don't deserve this and... I'd like to believe I don't either," she shyly looked down. "There is always gonna be someone between us. We're not strong enough to fight them. We were foolish enough to believe that we are."  
  
"How did we get here, Daenerys?" He whispered.

"It was easy to dream about our life when it was just you and me, and a bed. We weren't thinking clearly, we let passion get the best of us. But we have so much more to think about. You have a family to take care of, and this one time I will pardon your sister and let her live, because of you, because you're going to stay with them and protect them, that's what I want you to do, that's what I command you to do-" Dany took a deep breath, now helplessly sobbing.  
  
"Dany, please, I don't want to lose you, we don't have to-"  
  
"Let me finish, Jon, I'm begging you, please let me finish... No matter what you say, no matter what you do, you will never look at me the same. You will always choose them over me. I used to wonder what kind of man chooses his brother and sisters over the woman he loves, but I realized I will never truly understand what it means to have a family." Jon opened his mouth, to protest, she realized, but she quickly silenced him, "And it's fine, Jon. My goal wasn't to fall in love when I sailed for Westeros. It was to take back the throne my family lost. Yours was to defeat the Night King, and we both succeeded."  
  
"Am I not your family, hm?" His face turned red when he raised his voice at her, believing that perhaps if he yelled loud enough, the words would reach her quicker "I love you, and you're asking me to turn around and leave? I will not do it."

"Have you heard a single word I just said? It's not about what we want! We have to do this. We have to let each other go."  
  
"And you think we can just forget about each other? Forget everything we went through?"  
  
_No._  
  
"Yes. I am not sure I ever really loved y-ou," the words got stuck in her throat. Secretly she hoped he would believe her.  
  
_Hurt him. You have to hurt him, and he'll leave you_, her heart was clenching, and she was sure it was barely beating, only strong enough to keep her alive.  
  
"You were good to me, and when I said those words to you in your chambers, I was overwhelmed, a little drunk perhaps... It's best we never see each other again, Jon, but if we ever meet again, I hope I see you happy and smiling. You are a good man, don't ever forget that."

Jon

"Aye, maybe you're right," he murmured, feeling his chest tighten at her words. _She only wants to push me away._ "We both have duty. We can't abandon it because of our feelings. But could you promise me something, at least?"  
  
"Anything."  
  
"Be careful who you let near you. When you get the crown, everyone will want to be your friend, but none of them will truly mean well. Trust me on that. Promise me."  
  
She nodded, understanding what he was trying to say. "I promise."

_I'll miss your smile._ "Good."  
  
_I'll miss your lips._ "You're going to be a good queen, I know it."  
  
_I'll miss your touch._ "It won't be easy, but I stand by what I said. They all will come to see you for what you are."  
  
_I'll miss you._ "Goodbye, Daenerys. I'm truly sorry for everything." He watched her as she sat in her chair, seeking solace in the flames. He dared to approach her, look her in the eyes one last time, then press his delicate lips on her cheek, tasting the wetness and salt. "Don't forget me."  
  
"Goodbye, Jon," Dany whispered softly.

With that, he turned his back to her, and all the tears he was holding back wetted his cheeks at once. He felt dizzy as he left the chamber of the painted table, leaving a part of himself there, with her.  
  
His feet simply couldn't obey the command his brain gave, his knees kept bucking, hands shaking. His chest felt swollen under his garment, as if a rock was crushing him.  
  
"_I am not sure I ever really loved you,_" the words rang in his head. _Take me, take me far from here_, the voice in his head was shouting, but his feet wouldn't comply. Leaned against the stone wall in the dark corridor, he couldn't move. He was petrified of the future without her, petrified of the image of her all alone, surrounded by serpents and traitors.  
  
_She chose her destiny_, a different voice told him, urging him to move, run far away from her.  
  
And yet, he couldn't. Why did he keep seeing her smile every time he closed his eyes? Why did he feel her skin on his fingertips, if she was no longer his to love? Why could he taste her lips on his own, if she was no longer offering herself to him?  
  
"Dany," he murmured, closing his eyes. Maybe he was a fool for believing she would choose him, but he knew her better than anyone. She let him in, told him her darkest secrets, and he told her his, and they held each other close.

He even remembered what he was thinking the first time he came to her. He'd made love to her, and she laid with her head on his chest, but he couldn't sleep. He was foolish enough to hope for something he'd never wanted before, a different kind of family, the one where she would be his wife, and despite the curse she believed in, their child would grow inside her belly.  
  
_Would she still want the same thing with me?_  
  
While his thoughts were consuming him, in the distance he heard a sob. She sounded just as broken, weeping, thinking no one could hear her.  
  
And whatever it was that made him turn around and go back to the chamber, he was thankful for it, because what he saw would've made him smile if he had the strength to do so. Instead, he just stared.  
  
Daenerys, his Dany, was standing outside the chamber, still in the light, but he knew she would've ran faster if he hadn't met her halfway. Her eyes were red, chest rising and falling rapidly.  
  
_Did she mean to go after me?_

Before he could ask her, or think twice about his actions, his hands cupped her cheeks. "Look at me. Tell me you didn't mean it," he told her though his teeth. "Tell me you didn't mean what you said."  
  
"I love you, Jon. I love you, I need you by my side, I couldn't let you go without telling you the truth," she said, shaking her head side to side. "But you can't stay here, I can't do that to you."  
  
"Would you let me stay by your side even with a crown on your head?"  
  
"Let you? If I am truly more than your queen, then you don't need my permission to stay with me. That's what I've always wanted, you, as my King, no one else, Jon, no one else... But I couldn't make you choose between me and them."  
  
"It was never about choosing a side, Dany. I thought you'd want me gone, after I told you the truth... You are mine, Dany. How could you ever think otherwise?"

Daenerys

When she wrapped her arms around him, for the first time since they left the Targaryen flagship, she felt at peace, like a wound that was hurting her finally healed.  
  
"I am your aunt," she murmured against his shoulder, then froze as the words left her, and he pulled away.  
  
_He's repulsed. Disgusted, still. He hates it, he-_  
  
The voice was finally silenced when his lips brushed against hers in a tender kiss. No tongues clashing, no lust, just love, affection, assurance that he was hers, despite everything, he was still hers.  
  
"Just tell me you're mine, and we'll face it all together," she heard him say, inches away from her flushed face.  
  
"I'm yours," she responded, and she thought she heard him whisper _I love you_ against her lips before his tongue sought entrance to her mouth, but her mind wandered somewhere else as she was kissing him. It was their future, she realized, because as she took his hand and placed it on her still flat belly, she could see them with their child on a green field, sitting beneath a lemon tree.  
  
And when he realized what she was trying to tell him and pulled away, as if to beg her to say it out loud, she knew it was time to tell him about the life that was growing inside her.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, about Friends Don't Know The Way You Taste... I'm struggling. It's halfway done, if it means anything.


End file.
